People often assume that owning a miniature horse involves cute photos, pretty ribbons, and perhaps a stroll down a quiet lane.

What they don't realise is that you can also find yourself hurtling around a marathon course behind 35 inches of determination, wondering if you've remembered where the next obstacle is, and explaining for the thousandth time that yes, she's a horse, and no, she isn't a Shetland pony.

This year, DVM Paso's Dirty Dancer—better known at home as Didi—and I tackled our first three-day National British Carriage Driving event in the VSE class. Because apparently, we looked at each other and collectively decided that sleep, sanity, and sensible decisions were overrated.

Day One: Dressage – Fake It Till You Make It

Dressage is all about harmony, elegance, and making it appear as though horse and driver communicate through some magical telepathic connection.

The reality is trying desperately to remember the test while Didi is getting ready to combust like a jack-in-the-box if I make her stand still any longer, and discovering that a three-stride rein back should really be classified as a parallel parking exercise.

Thankfully, Didi brought her A-game and did her best to convince the judge that we were professionals. There may have been moments of brilliance, moments of improvisation, and at least one occasion where confidence far outweighed accuracy, but we came out smiling.

Day Two: Marathon – Tiny Horse, Huge Engine

If there was ever any doubt that Didi thinks she's a full-sized event horse, the marathon phase removed it completely.

Forget the fact that she's tiny. Didi attacked the course with ears pricked, eyes bright, and enough enthusiasm to power a small village. Every obstacle was approached with complete confidence and absolutely no concern for the fact that her driver was hanging on for dear life trying to remember where we were supposed to be going.

At several points I realised that while I thought I was driving, Didi had already made some executive decisions of her own.

And honestly, watching Didi fly through obstacles with the heart of a lion and the legs of a Spanish dancer is something I'll never tire of.

Day Three: Cones – Precision Under Pressure

After surviving marathon, all that remained was cones.

Or, as I now like to call it, reverse parking with spectators. Including the pressure!

The goal is simple: drive through a series of narrow obstacles without knocking the balls off the cones.

The execution? Slightly less simple.

Everything was going beautifully until I successfully drove through number four and then promptly forgot where I was supposed to be going next. Not because Didi had gone rogue. Not because we'd had a mishap. Simply because my brain decided that after three days of competition, obstacle number four was quite enough navigation for one weekend.

Meanwhile, Didi carried on with complete faith that I knew what I was doing. Bless her optimism.

Eventually, with my sense of direction recovered and dignity only slightly dented, we carried on. Every clear obstacle felt like we'd won Badminton, and every wobbling ball had me holding my breath.

Things I've Learned

• Didi has absolutely no idea she's miniature.
• Confidence comes in all sizes.
• Miniature horses have the work ethic of a Grand Prix horse and the opinionated nature of a diva.
• "Steady" is merely a suggestion.
• There are few things more entertaining than being overtaken by your own tiny horse's enthusiasm.
• VSE competitors deserve extra points simply for fitting everything into the lorry.
• Didi may only stand a few feet tall, but she has the heart of a giant.

Final Thoughts

Our first three-day National event was everything we'd hoped for: exciting, nerve-wracking, exhausting, hilarious, and utterly addictive.

Didi proved once again that heart, determination, and a healthy amount of sass matter far more than height.

And while she may officially be DVM Paso's Dirty Dancer in the results, she'll always be Didi at home—the little mare with the giant personality who somehow convinced me that spending three days being enthusiastically dragged around the countryside was a perfectly reasonable way to spend a weekend.

Honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.